


Feral

by VincentMeoblinn



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Chases, Feral Behavior, Frottage, M/M, Mates, Mating, Oral Sex, Pack Bonding, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, Wolf Derek, Wolf Stiles, Wolfed Out Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-11 09:40:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5622697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VincentMeoblinn/pseuds/VincentMeoblinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles was sold to a pack of werewolves who abused him for five years before Scott found him, feral and almost unreachable. Isaac can calm him, but only Derek is able to get through the trauma he's suffered and bring back their friend and packmate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was widely assumed that Stiles was dead.

He’d gone missing when he was seventeen, and that had been five years ago. His father had never stopped looking, and Scott still ‘talked’ to him at night before going to bed, but overall it was assumed that Gerard had killed him- probably accidentally- before his attempts to turn himself into a werewolf. Even after they’d found Gerard (barely) alive later on he’d refused to tell them where Stiles was, laughing at their misery. Scott got enough cryptic remarks from him to determine that whatever fate Stiles had met, it hadn’t been a pretty one. He’d mourned for years, but eventually the pack expanded and he became a True Alpha. He had to care for his betas and omegas, so spending every second of the day either mooning over Alison or mourning Stiles wasn’t an option. Allison was still there and Stiles wasn’t, so he became a whisper at night when Scott needed someone to talk to but lacked the best friend he’d known since childhood or a reliable replacement. Stiles couldn’t be replaced, and even Derek who had known him for a mere two years felt the same.

Five years later, a territorial dispute over a patch of land just outside of Beacon Hills resulted in the McCall pack invading a werewolf’s lair to shut down their drug ring and kick them out. They had all been born wolves so Peter and Derek were indispensible when it came to dealing with them. They had worked out a plan that helped the group take them out quickly and efficiently, focusing on the Alpha and isolating him. Once the pack was demoralized they mostly fled, but the some held their ground in the basement of the filthy house. Scott felt bad for the clearly abused members and went down there to give them some Alpha guidance. What hit him first was the smell of death, with an underlying taint of wolfsbane. He knew what he’d find, but he continued anyway because another scent was teasing his nose. Something familiar. Something important.

The two werewolves lay in a pool of their blood, their throats slit wide open with a wolfsbane tainted knife. Only one remained alive, squatting on the floor and studying the knife with a murderous glint in his eyes. Scott froze, eyes widening in shock. The omega staring up at him with glowing blue eyes and froth at his mouth was an impossibility.

“Stiles?”

Stiles gave Scott a wild look, his lips pulled back from his teeth and he let out a savage roar as he launched himself at Scott.

“Derek! DEREK!” Scott caught at Stiles’ wrists, stopping him from stabbing him or ripping him apart.

Derek came flying down the rickety stairs, teeth and claws bared, and froze in shock.

“St- _Stiles_?!” Derek croaked.

“Help me get him under control!” Scott shouted, “Take the knife! It’s poisonous!”

Derek pried it from Stiles’ fingers, nearly getting bitten in the process. Once the main threat was isolated he pulled Stiles against himself so Scott could talk some sense into him.

“Easy, Stiles,” Scott soothed as Derek pulled his arms back and held him in place, “C’mon, buddy, it’s Scott! Your best bud!”

Stiles threw his head back and howled for his pack, nearly breaking Derek’s nose in the process. Then he froze, listening and panting harshly. The smell of fear was so pungent that both beta and alpha had to breathe through their mouths. Even then it was making them gag when combined with the deaths around them. When no answering howl came Stiles let out a soft whimper and went limp in Derek’s arms, whining piteously as he stared up at Scott with fear in his eyes.

“What’s wrong with him?” Scott asked as Derek hoisted him up and threw him over his shoulder now that he was relatively harmless.

“Upstairs,” Derek huffed, hurrying along.

Scott shut the basement door and they all but fled outside to get away from the horror behind them. They lowered the terrified omega to the ground outside and he curled into a ball, whimpering miserably.

“He doesn’t look so good,” Scott said softly, trying to pet Stiles’ hair. The omega curled up and tighter, arms over his head and a pitiful whine crawling up his throat.

“What happened down there?” Isaac asked.

“Stiles!” Lydia cried out, dropping to her knees beside him, “Oh, gods, he _stinks!_ ”

“Imagine how he smells to us,” Erica huffed, shaking her head in disgust, “What happened?”

“He’s been horribly abused,” Derek stated, “Bad packs mistreat their omegas. Make them punching bags. He’s basically feral. My guess is the alpha’s second went down there to kill off the dead weight. Stiles managed to get the upper hand and instinctively killed the second and the other omega.”

“Hey, buddy,” Scott soothed, “C’mon. Talk to me. Whatever happened, we’ll help you through it. We’re here for you.”

“Yeah,” Lydia agreed, touching his shoulder only to have to pull back in alarm when he tried to claw her.

“He’s feral,” Derek explained, “He doesn’t really know what he’s doing.”

“What do we do?” Scott asked.

“He’s terrified of you right now,” Derek sighed, “All he knows is you smell like an alpha, and the last alpha he knew hurt him. Badly.”

“So what do I _do_?” Scott pleaded.

“Give him space,” Derek stated, “Let us try. He might respond better to another omega.”

“Um… he _killed_ the last omega,” Isaac pointed out.

“Probably unintentionally,” Derek replied, “C’mere Isaac.”

Isaac grumbled under his breath but approached Stiles nonetheless. He knelt down at his side while Derek urged Scott back. Boyd gripped Scott’s shoulder and Lydia hurried towards him for a tight hug.

“He’ll be okay,” Scott assured Lydia… and himself.

“Hey there, dude,” Isaac sighed, rubbing at Stiles’ hip, “We thought you were dead, you know? Glad to see you. Um… you’re like twenty-one now, right? So you can drink!”

Boyd snorted and Derek rolled his eyes dramatically while Erica shook her head in disgust. Scott watched as Stiles slowly relaxed under Isaac’s gentle touch and calm words. The omega was telling Stiles about all the things he’d missed, from a Nogitsune taking over Greenburg to assassinations, and eventually Stiles peaked out from beneath his arms and stared up at him shyly.

“Hey,” Isaac smiled, “Welcome back.”

“It’s probably going to take more than that,” Derek said softly, “Let’s see if we can get him to the cars.”


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles shook the entire way back to his father’s house, even going so far to piss himself in terror when Scott made the mistake of reaching back to comfort him with a bit of pack touch. Stiles was petrified of Scott, and afraid of the betas, and trying to climb into Isaac’s lap despite his piss-soaked jeans. Isaac looked fit to weep and Scott was a bit misty eyed at Stiles’ fearful rejection.

They approached the house and Scott and Derek got out of the car to talk.

“Sorry about your seats,” Scott muttered, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“They’ll wash,” Derek replied, “I’m worried about John. He’s human. Stiles might kill him.”

“You’re the one who said to bring him home?” Scott hesitated.

“Because the smells might bring him further out of his feral state,” Derek nodded, “But he might react against John before he takes in the scent. We’ll need to make sure he’s safe. You go in now and talk to him. I’ll help Isaac herd him into the house. Call me when you’re good.”

Scott nodded and headed into the house while Derek took a few deep breaths of clean air before opening the car door and being assaulted with fear/omega/danger/piss/anger. Isaac gave him a mortified look and Derek did his best not to smirk.

“Hey there, Stiles,” Derek smiled softly, crouching down so he wasn’t towering over the frightened omega, “Wanna go home?”

Stiles’ eyes flickered, a bit of interest showing in their glowing blue depths. He gave a full body twitch and Isaac gave Derek a hopeful look.

“I’m going to back up slowly,” Derek told him, crouching down on all fours, “And I want you to follow me. Isaac will be behind you to keep you safe.”

Derek glanced around for cars and started backing up to cross the street, keeping his head down and his scent unthreatening by thinking happy thoughts. Stiles slowly inched out of the car, dropping low as well and inching across the road while glancing around anxiously. Isaac came out behind him, standing upright and staring down at his soaked pants in disgust.

“This _sucks!”_

“Shut up,” Derek smiled at him, “We want him to keep moving in _this_ direction with _no_ urge to bolt.”

“Right,” Isaac nodded, following after at a more steady pace. Stiles stepped into the house a second after Derek heard the text go off letting him know Scott was ready.

Stiles sniffed the air and then promptly pressed against the wall of the entryway and buried his face in his father’s jacket, breathing deep. Derek could hear Scott and John talking in his office, the door shut to discourage Stiles’ entrance until they were ready for him.

“I’m going to go find him some clean clothes,” Derek told him, “You wait _here_. Don’t let him near his father until we’re sure he’s okay. He’s reacting like a born wolf, not a turned one. You take your queue from _me_ , not Scott.”

Isaac nodded, but Derek thought he might be lying. He went upstairs anyway, locating a few articles of clothing and a towel before heading downstairs. He frowned at Stiles where he crouched rubbing his face all over his father’s jacket and whining softly. He opened his mouth to suggest that they reintroduce the father now, but at that point John ran out of patience and burst through the door from his study.

“You’re not keeping my _son_ from me after five-“

Stiles spun around and let out a savage roar… before mewing like a kitten and slowly inching his way towards his father while still crouched submissively to the floor, walking sideways so he didn’t have to turn his back on anyone. John stood in the hallway with Scott behind him, carefully monitoring the situation, and stared down at his son with a brokenhearted look on his face. He sank to his knees and put his arms out.

“Come here, son,” John whispered, voice rasping as the tears started to flow. Derek swallowed hard, but he couldn’t look away like he wanted to. He had to be ready to restrain Stiles if his miss-wired brain decided to go violent.

Stiles reached his father, sniffed at one hand, then the other, and then slowly crawled into his lap with a low whine. John’s face was twisted in pain, but he was patient. He didn’t wrap his arms around Stiles the way he clearly wanted to until the young man sagged against him. Only when Stiles was clearly accepting of his father’s affection did he hold him, smelling his long hair and stroking his back.

“My son,” John sobbed, “My beautiful boy. I never gave up. Never.”

Stiles didn’t speak, but he did let out a low groan as if he were wounded that went right through Derek’s heart. Scott had to put his hand over his mouth to stop his alpha instinct from making him vocally respond to Stiles’ distress. John didn’t hold back though, rocking Stiles gently as he wept and spoke softly to him.

“What is that, piss?” John asked, huffing a bit as he rocked his son.

“He was really scared on the way home,” Isaac told him, “I took a hit, too.”

“We only have one shower,” John replied.

“He responds well to me,” Isaac told him, “I’ll help him get showered.”

John hesitated, gripping his son tightly again.

“John,” Derek spoke softly, “He was being mistreated. He needs food and a lot of comfort. You should take some time while Isaac cleans him up, make some food for him, and then you can spend time pampering him. He’s going to need time to heal and a helluva lot of support.”

John nodded, “I’ll call work. Take some leave. Tell them Stiles is home. They’ll understand.”

John helped Stiles upstairs and left him in Isaac’s capable hands, leaving some of Stiles’ clothes with both boys. Derek stood outside the door while John changed his trousers since they’d gotten filthy as well. He met Scott downstairs and began making sandwiches while Derek continued to stand guard. After a few minutes in the shower Isaac let out a surprised squawk, but it didn’t sound pained and Derek didn’t want to frighten Stiles by barging in.

“Isaac?” Derek called, “You guys okay in there?”

“Dude he’s…!” There was a scrambling sound and then Isaac burst into the hallway, soaking wet and looking alarmed.

To Derek’s surprise, Stiles didn’t follow him out. He glanced in to see the window was closed, so he hadn’t escaped, but the curtains were partway open. Stiles was in the shower basking in the hot water, and as Derek watched he began to move his arm in a suspicious fashion.

Derek snorted, “He’s probably pent up. No reason to get all freaked out. Perfectly natural.”

Derek still shut the door, of course, but he justified that mentally by telling himself that it would be cold otherwise.

“It’s not that,” Isaac whined, shifting from foot to foot as he dried himself off with a towel, “He was sort of… offering himself to me.”

“Oh,” Derek blinked, and then his eyes widened, “Shit. You think they…?”

“He looked guilty, almost,” Isaac gave Derek a distressed look, “As if he felt he _had_ to in order to deal with his own… stuff.”

“So what did you do?” Derek asked.

“I sort of… not in a weird way… patted his butt so he knew it was okay, like attaboy, and then fled the scene,” Isaac replied, “Was that okay?”

“Clearly, since he’s fapping like a man long denied in there,” Derek replied, still able to hear Stiles’ activities through the door, “He’s attending to his bodily needs and if he needs reassurance, you give it to him.”

“Okay,” Isaac nodded anxiously.

Derek felt Scott before he heard or smelled him, but when he caught _sight_ of him he knew there was a problem. His eyes were glowing a brilliant red and he reeked of rage that Derek couldn’t believe he was keeping in check.

“What happened?” Derek asked.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Scott growled softly.

“Scott?” Isaac chirped, sliding behind Derek.

“Keep him safe,” Scott ordered, waiting until they both nodded before he turned and strode away from them.

“Somebody’s going to pay,” Isaac whispered.

Derek nodded, eyes wide in horror for whoever Scott took his rage out on. In the bathroom behind them they heard Stiles _loudly_ finish, prompting Isaac to snicker while Derek smothered a grin. After a few more minutes Stiles emerged from the shower, freshly scrubbed and rubbing at his damp hair. Isaac led him to his bedroom where Stiles stared around himself for a moment and then smiled softly.

“So… he’s not feral anymore?” Isaac asked as Derek hovered in the doorway.

“Doesn’t seem it. Hey, Stiles?”

Stiles glanced at him before rooting through a drawer and pulling out a shirt.

“Do you recognize us?” Isaac tried.

Stiles glanced at them, but didn’t respond. Instead he pulled the t-shirt over his head and then stared down at it happily.

“Okay, is it just me, or should he have grown?” Isaac asked Derek.

“Between a five year gap and becoming a werewolf? Yeah. He’s been starved.”

Stiles pulled on the rest of his clothes and then hesitated, giving them both an anxious look. Derek stepped back and motioned to Isaac. When the doorway was clear Stiles slowly walked into the hall, keeping his back against the wall in the hallway. Isaac gave Derek a sorrowful glance and the beta pressed his lips together firmly. They followed Stiles down the stairs at a slow pace. He found his father in the kitchen and pressed against his back, watching as he made another sandwich.

“Hungry, son?” John asked, pushing a plate towards him.

Stiles whined, hands flying to his stomach as it growled loudly, but he backed away from the food rather than towards it. He was looking around himself anxiously, eying up the werewolves in the group.

“It’s okay, Stiles,” John insisted, “C’mere and eat.”

John put the sandwich on the table and Stiles stared at it in longing for a few seconds before bolting forward, snatching it up, and ducking beneath the table. He sat under there, scarfing it down while growling angrily. His father slid a glass of juice under, using a broom rather than risking an arm.

“When will he be back to normal?” John asked, standing up with a sigh.

“To be honest?” Derek folded his arms, “Probably never.”


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles was curled up on the floor, chuckling a bit as a funny scene played out in the movie. He had refused to sit on the couch or a chair, choosing to lie at his father’s feet. They’d quickly discovered that he was wary of the rest of the pack, only truly comfortable with Isaac, his father, and Derek. Derek still couldn’t move close enough to touch Stiles and it was frustrating him; all of their instincts were telling him to make a puppy pile and comfort their terrified omega. The end result was a heavy snuggle fest on the couch which even John had joined in on. Erica was in Boyd’s lap, Lydia was snuggled against Isaac, and Isaac was plastered to Derek’s side. Derek was sitting beside John who currently had Stiles for a foot warmer.

“He’s reacting better,” Isaac whispered, “He’s at least watching the show.”

“Hm,” Derek acknowledged.

The door banged open and a loud, frantic growl filled the air. Stiles let out a terrified cry and bolted, vanishing into the kitchen before Derek could catch him. He stood to follow, but Isaac was already clamouring after him. Derek faced the new threat instead, and watched with a sick feeling in his gut as a truly insane Scott McCall dragged a thrashing werewolf into the house. He threw the beta down on the ground and slammed his foot down on his back. Derek heard the creature’s spine grind and swallowed down his bile at seeing Scott this incensed.

“Scott,” Derek warned, “Calm down.”

“What did you do to him?!” Scott roared, grinding his heel down.

The ‘wolf screamed and then choked on his tongue.

“Scott!” Derek shouted, “You’re terrifying him!”

“He should be scared!” Scott howled.

“Not him, _Stiles!”_ Derek insisted, “You’re terrifying _Stiles_.”

Scott froze and Derek saw his cheek twitch as his ears focused outward, trying to find Stiles’ heartbeat in the house. He must have located him- inside the cabinets in the kitchen holding his breath in an attempt to hide- because he went very still and then gave the ‘wolf on the floor a mournful look. John was frozen, torn between going to his son and stopping the violence in his home.

“Isaac’s with him,” Scott said softly.

“He’s the only one besides John who can go near him,” Derek replied, “He’s traumatized, Scott. They raped and beat him.”

“They… he… told you?” Scott asked, voice ragged.

“He still won’t speak.”

“Then you don’t _know_ ,” Scott growled.

“I don’t _have_ to know,” Derek replied, “None of us do. It’s not our place to pry into what happened to him, it’s up to us to help him _heal_.”

“How can we help him heal without knowing-?”

“By knowing _him_ ,” Derek growled, “Scott, you’ve brought one of his assailants into his _home_. Get him _out.”_

Scott made a wounded sound, bent down and grabbed the were by the foot, and dragged him from the house. Derek nodded to John who took off after Stiles while Derek followed Scott outside. He was standing in the yard, head bowed, fighting back tears. The werewolf had fled, though slowly with his injuries. Scott’s fists were clenched as he held back the howls of rage and anguish he wanted to let loose. It wouldn’t do to scare Stiles further. Derek sniffed the air, considering Scott’s mood, and then stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. Scott huffed out a sob, choked it back, and then crumbled against Derek. The beta held his alpha, squeezing him tightly to give him something to focus on instead of the pain in his heart.

“We’ll help him heal.”

“How?” Scott whispered, “He’s so broken. I don’t even know where to start.”

“How about with someone who’s been hurt before?” Derek suggested, taking a deep breath, “I know what PTSD looks like, Scott. I know how it feels to push your way through it, to spend every waking moment reliving what you’ve been through and fearing the nightmares that come when you sleep. I can help him, but I need _you_ to be the rock he can lean on because this is going to break me down, too.”

“I don’t want you hurt either.”

“We don’t have much of a choice. He can see a therapist all he wants, but there’s only going to be one person who gets it from a werewolf’s perspective, and that’s me. Can you help us?”

“Yes,” Scott lifted an arm, wrapping it around Derek’s arm where it held him tightly, “Yes, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“Then let us lean on you,” Derek replied softly, “Stiles isn’t feral anymore, but he’s hovering near there. Just be our alpha.”

“I will,” Scott promised.


	4. Chapter 4

It took hours to coax Stiles out of the cabinets and by the time they did he’d pissed himself again. John grumbled that he was hoping it wasn’t going to be a theme and took him upstairs to get him washed up while Scott sat on the couch and mentally beat himself up for upsetting Stiles again. After he got him settled into his bedroom John headed downstairs to find someone had joined them.

“Sherriff,” The Deputy Parrish nodded.

“I called out for a reason, Deputy,” John grumbled.

“I know,” He nodded somberly, “That reason is why I’m here. We showed up at the hospital and they said Stiles hadn’t been checked in.”

“No, he hasn’t,” John agreed, heading for his kitchen, “You on duty?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You want a drink?”

“Uh… is that a trick question?”

“Whiskey or beer?”

“No drink, sir. How is he?”

“Not well,” John replied, pouring himself a drink, “It would be better if you visited in a few days, Parrish.”

“I’m not here for a social call, Sherriff. I’m here for his statement, or at least an explanation about what happened to him. People have been saying for years he wouldn’t have run away. Not Stiles. So where was he? What happened?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Scott breathed.

“We don’t know details,” John replied, sitting in his favorite chair and sipping his whiskey, “He’s traumatized, Parrish. He hasn’t said a word.”

“Maybe someone less familiar-“

“Will terrify him more,” John stated firmly.

“Then at least take him to the hospital. They can sedate him and we can-“

“No.”

“But the evidence, John!”

“I kept his clothes,” John stated, “You want em, you can have em.”

Parrish nodded, “He’s an adult now so I’ll need his consent.”

“He’s a _traumatized_ adult, who won’t speak two words to his own father. You can take the clothes or leave em. Your call.”

“Okay,” Parrish nodded, “We’ll do this your way, but I don’t want you blaming me if we can’t catch the bastards.”

John nodded to Isaac who got up and bustled to the upstairs bathroom where the clothes had been stuffed in a trashbag. He brought them downstairs to the Deputy without saying a word. Parrish nodded to John and the others and headed out, leaving the Sherriff to study his retreating figure in silence.

“I don’t like you ordering my omegas around,” Scott said softly.

“It’s fine,” Isaac started, but Scott cut him off with a glance.

“I didn’t say two words to him,” John replied with narrowed eyes.

“You didn’t have to, and you know you didn’t,” Scott replied.

“You really wanna do this, son?” John asked, eyes narrowed angrily, “We haven’t seen each other in _five years_ , not since I threw your ass out of this house after you _lost my son_. You want to get into it now?”

Scott straightened up, “Whatever happened to Stiles, blaming me won’t help. I need my pack unified, and that includes you. That means we can’t have two alphas going at it.”

“You got me classified in your head as an alpha?” John asked incredulously.

“My pack responds to you as one, so yeah.”

“They respond to _him_ as one, too,” John indicated Derek, “Don’t see any glowing eyes.”

“Derek is my second,” Scott stated.

“Not Stiles,” John replied bitterly.

“Stiles was always something important to the pack, something indefinable, but not my second, no. My second would have to be someone who could give orders in my absence, who I could lean on when responsibility got to be too much. That’s Derek. Stiles was… is… the heart of our pack. We’ve lost a lot since he’s been gone. We’ve just been clinging to each other, hoping to survive every damn thing that swarmed us. We’ve been miserable and our future uncertain the whole time, and now we’re going to be a family again.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility you’re putting on a damaged boy.”

“A damaged _man_ ,” Scott corrected, “Stiles is going to need us relying on him, John. He’s going to need to be reminded that he has a place here and that it’s at our side. He needs a future, and his future is with us. We’re _pack_. All of us, and it’s time to start acting like it.”

John was silent a moment. He glanced over at Derek who lowered his head respectfully in deference to his alpha’s words.

John nodded, “Okay. I’ll try not to tread on your tail, but I don’t like this. I’m not going to be comfortable until he’s at least _somewhat_ my son again, and I don’t want you putting him in danger ever again.”

“I don’t think we can avoid danger,” Scott told him, “But I can protect him, and so can the pack. You’re a cop, John. You have to understand that.”

John sighed, “I do, but it doesn’t mean I _like_ it.”

A scream came from upstairs and the entire pack bolted as one, headed upstairs to get to Stiles and his terrified cries. Scott was picturing the beta he’d dragged back seeking revenge as he outpaced the Sherriff and made it into the bedroom. Stiles was curled up in a corner of his room, screaming and sobbing, rocking himself as he pulled at his long hair in frustration. It had dried into long waves but he was threatening to pull it out by the root with his panic. Scott rounded the bed and pulled his hands away to stop him from clawing himself, nearly getting bit in the process. Isaac was there in an instant, holding Stiles and murmuring comforting words. John pushed through the betas ringing the door and got to Stiles’ other side to pet his hair and kiss his head.

“Just a nightmare,” John stated, his voice choked with fear, “You guys go on. I’ll sleep with him. He needs his dad.”

Scott nodded, motioning to Isaac to give him space. As they left John was carefully coaxing Stiles back to the bed.

“It’s fine, son. Just like after your mom died. I’ll stay all night if you need me to. You just say the word and I’ll give you space or stay. Your call.”

Scott and the rest of the pack moved downstairs, curling up on the floor in silence. They pressed tightly together and wound blankets and pillows through their little puppy pile. Isaac was whining softly until Scott tugged him close to nuzzle him lovingly. Derek was warmed by the fact they were acting more like born wolves, the comfort of pack piles was something he had sorely missed but that their pack only did during times of distress. He’d gotten to like the bad times if only because he could wrap his arms around Scott or any of the betas with impunity.

XXX

Derek woke to see Stiles kneeling on the floor nearby, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought as he watched them cautiously. Derek made sure his movements were slow and his expression and scent pleasant. He waited to see what Stiles would do, but his only interest was in studying them. After a while Stiles slunk off into the kitchen where he began rooting around. Derek carefully followed to see he was setting up a pan and had some eggs out. Derek watched from the doorway as he made a huge amount of breakfast, frying up everything in the house. The smell of cooking bacon roused the pack and they had breakfast together, but Stiles spent it eating in the corner while watching them all carefully. He still growled if they came too close, and Scott still took it to heart, but Derek thought it was progress.

XXX

A month later Stiles was moving around far more naturally, but he still hid when he ate and hadn’t spoken a word. John wanted to get him to the hospital to have a CT scan done, but getting him into the hospital had proven to be impossible. Every time they came near it Stiles would panic and that brought out his wolf features. They couldn’t take him in like that, so they would head home again where Stiles would hide for a few days in terror. It made sense, of course. Stiles had previous distress from witnessing his mother’s death in a hospital, so bringing him there when he was still traumatized was difficult. Finally Melissa got them a sedative so they could bring him in unconscious. The scan went smoothly and Stiles left partly awake while glaring at his father accusingly. He had nightmares that night, but the scan showed no brain damage.

John was so glad to have his son home that he had difficulty leaving each day to go to work, and Stiles still didn’t leave the house without being coaxed along. They got him to a therapist regularly, but no progress was being made since Stiles tended to hide behind the chair and growl at her. The pack had all gone home, but they visited regularly to watch movies together and spend time with Stiles. Stiles let the betas within arm range but they still couldn’t touch him without him fleeing from them, and Scott couldn’t even go near him.

XXX

Another month passed and the pack had a sleepover on the floor again, this time with better matting to avoid discomfort. Allison and Lydia took to the furniture while the werewolves slept on the ground. Stiles still occasionally bunked in his father’s bed, but that night he came creeping down the steps in his pajamas and slowly approached the group while they lay watching a movie together on the pile of blankets and mats. Stiles studied them cautiously while Derek ignored him. Just as Stiles was slipping closer Derek slowly moved one hand to hold it out to Stiles. Stiles leaned in and sniffed his hand curiously, then ducked his head and rubbed the top of it all over Derek’s hand. Derek wuffed out his approval and Stiles slid against him, rubbing up against him like a cat before dropping to the mat beside him and pressing in close. Derek waited an hour, watching the movie and waiting. When Stiles seemed to be completely relaxed Derek shifted a bit. Stiles didn’t respond. Derek shifted again and then slid his arm out from between them and wrapped it around Stiles’ shoulder.

Stiles let out a heavy sigh and snuggled in closer, making elated butterflies dance around in Derek’s stomach. He was so glad Stiles was trusting him that it completely slipped his mind that his acceptance wouldn’t be well met by all. Scott was staring at them with a broken look on his face, clearly fighting back tears. Isaac gave Scott a worried look and slipped around to snuggle into Stiles’ other side. Then he glanced expectantly at Scott, who got the hint and moved to Stiles’ feet. Stiles glanced at Scott slowly crawling towards his feet and his breathing sped up. Scott paused. Stiles calmed in increments. Scott crept closer, belly to the floor as if he were the omega. Stiles tensed. Scott froze. Stiles relaxed. Scott moved. Finally he was close enough to lay his head on Stiles’ calf, and when he could he nuzzled against the slender ankle and breathed in Stiles’ scent. Stiles began to panic a few seconds later, letting out an anxious whine and gripping onto Derek’s shirt while staring down at Scott in horror. Scott backed off, hurt in his eyes, but the damage was done and Stiles scrambled away to hide for another few hours. Scott wanted to know why it kept happening, but Derek didn’t have answers for him until the next day.

XXX

Derek stopped by the Stilinski residence to talk to John about Stiles’ progress and ask if they might be willing to give up on the therapist. Stiles was terrified of humans besides Allison, so Derek was concerned that the forced therapy sessions were actually impeding his progress. When Derek got there John was out so Derek decided to spend some time with Stiles waiting for him.

“Hey, Stiles,” Derek started, stepping into the bathroom where Stiles was scrubbing the floor almost frantically, “Don’t you ever take a break?”

Stiles glanced up at him, gave him a surprisingly assessing look, and then stood up to wash his hands. He hesitated a moment, took a deep breath, and then backed up until his body was flush against Derek’s. Stiles tilted his head to display his neck and arched his back to rub his ass against Derek’s groin. Derek sucked in a breath as desire shot through him, but quickly tamped it down. He knew what Stiles was doing now. I was so clear that he couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it before. Derek placed his hands on Stiles’ shoulder and the young man rocked against him. Derek began to harden, leaning forward to breathe in Stiles’ scent, but instead of arousal he caught anxiety. Derek backed away and Stiles let out a frantic whine, turning to drop to his knees and reach for Derek’s groin. Derek caught his wrists.

“Easy, easy,” Derek soothed, “I can make you feel safe, Stiles. I can do that, but I need you to calm down first. I want this to be good for you, too.”

Stiles took a deep breath and nodded so Derek pulled him to his feet and took him into his bedroom. He’d feel better in there, where his scent was thick on the walls. Stiles bolted for the bed the second they were inside, reaching for his clothes while panting frantically. He still didn’t smell aroused. He smelled _panicked_. In fact, Derek was sure he was heading for a panic attack.

“Easy,” Derek soothed, “Slow breaths, Stiles. Slow. I won’t hurt you. You can keep your clothes on if you want. Whatever makes you feel safer.”

Derek kneeled on the edge of the bed and cocked his head to one side, showing Stiles his interest as he jutted his hips out but kept himself nonthreatening. Stiles focused on Derek’s erection and took a slow, deep breath. He slowly turned around, keeping his eyes on Derek as he did so until he was staring at him over his shoulder while on hands and knees. Derek’s cock throbbed eagerly. He moved forward and draped himself over Stiles’ body, keeping his pants closed as he did so. He didn’t want to cause a flashback, but he had to reassure Stiles of his inclusion in the pack. Derek rutted against Stiles body, humming in approval as pleasure sparked up his body. However, he didn’t let himself drown in his arousal. This was about _Stiles_ finally recognizing someone in their pack as his protector. Derek getting off was just a means to an end.

Every time Stiles’ panic picked up Derek tightened his grip on his body and nuzzled his neck, licking at his scent glands behind his ear until Stiles relaxed and pushed back. Then he’d continue frotting until his body was finally _almost_ there. Finally Derek leaned back, quickly pulling himself out through his fly, and jerked himself off firmly. Stiles surprised him by turning around quickly and lifting up his shirt, an anxious look on his face. Derek nodded.

“Good, that’s good,” Derek panted, then grunted as he came hard across Stiles’ displayed torso. He was so busy watching Stiles’ face in concern that he barely felt his own orgasm, but it was worth it to see the relief in Stiles’ eyes. Stiles reached down and rubbed his semen in, transferring some of the spunk to the back of his neck and even his face before stuffing his hand down his trousers and smearing his come there. Stiles’ entire disposition changed the second Derek leaned back on his heals and let out a relieved sigh. Stiles met his eyes for the first time in years. He gave him a shy smile. He looked relieved, hopeful, and relaxed. As Derek watched, he blushed and gave him a curious look.

“Yeah?” Derek asked.

Stiles opened his mouth, but he didn’t seem to know the words to use. Derek leaned in and smelled him, breathing deep to catch Stiles’ scent beneath the claiming he’d placed on him. Stiles smelled of happiness, hope, and just a tiny hint of arousal.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Derek whispered.

Stiles hesitated, looking nervous, but after a moment he nodded. He laid back on the bed with his legs slightly spread and his eyes wide.

“You stop me if I do _anything_ you don’t want, okay?” Derek asked, his eyes sincere, “I want you to be happy.”

Stiles gave him a confused look but visibly pushed it down and nodded. Derek reached out and palmed his growing arousal through his pants. Stiles smothered a groan, head falling back as he offered his neck up to Derek. Derek leaned over him and breathed in the scent of his mark on Stiles’ skin. It sent a shiver down his spine. _Pack._ _Protection. Comfort._

Derek worked Stiles through his clothes while the young man let out soft, sharp breaths and shifted his hips on the bed. Finally Stiles reached down, opening his eyes for permission, and undid his clothes. Derek didn’t wait for Stiles to pull himself out. His hand dove in to grasp the younger man and work him with long, firm strokes. Stiles fell apart beneath him, gasping and choking on the sounds he wanted to make.

“Let it out,” Derek growled, “I want to hear you. Come on. Moan for me. Grunt. Swear. I want to hear your voice again, Stiles. _Anything.”_

“I…” Stiles choked out, and Derek held his breath in the hope of hearing more, “ _Derek_.”

Stiles didn’t so much speak his name as cry it out in rapturous tones. His dick throbbed in Derek’s hand and then began to pulse. The scent of Stiles’ seed was high in the air and Derek didn’t hesitate to swipe over the tip of his prick to make him twitch and cry out beneath him. He worked him through his climax and when he let him go Stiles went limp with a soft croon.

“You good?” Derek asked.

“Mm,” Stiles replied, grin lopsided and eyes glazed.

Derek chuckled, “I can’t believe it took me this long to figure out what you needed. You’re safe, Stiles.”

“Words… so small,” Stiles breathed, shivering anxiously. He reached up and caressed Derek’s cheek before wrapping his hand around the back of his neck and tugging, “Weight.”

Derek laid down on him pressing his weight into Stiles’ body.

“What’s small?” Derek chuckled, “Nothing _I_ saw today.”

Stiles huffed out a laugh, hand lazily stroking along Derek’s body.

“Words… um… words don’t mean as much as they used to.”

Derek gave Stiles a tight squeeze, a wave of relief coming over him at hearing Stiles speak a full sentence. He hadn’t realized that he’d still been thinking of Stiles as dead until that moment. His eyes felt damp. He blinked them and took a deep breath before speaking again.

“Do you want to tell me why?”

“I got… they…” Stiles took a deep, shaky breath and wrapped his arms tightly around Derek. His legs shifted to frame his hips loosely, “They hated my voice. Punished me for talking. Crying. Screaming. M-m-moaning. Even if I managed to enjoy when he… I couldn’t… I wasn’t allowed to.”

“He punished you for enjoying it when he forced himself on you?”

“Yeah. Sick.”

“He was, yeah,” Derek nodded, dragging his stubble across Stiles’ neck to mark him further.

“Not him. Me. I _liked it_.”

“It’s sex,” Derek soothed, “You’re body is bound to respond sometimes. Especially at your age. Stiles, what _he_ did was wrong. You know that, don’t you?”

“Words are small,” Stiles whispered so softly that Derek almost didn’t hear him.

“You’re not, though. Not you. You’re not insigificant, Stiles. You’re amazing and you’re going to get through this. I’ll do anything to help. Anything.”

“Including defy Scott?” Stiles asked, his voice cracking.

Derek lifted himself up, “I know you’re not hearing me right now, but Scott will _not_ hurt you. He definitely won’t rape you. Remember Allison?”

“He’s not going to like this,” Stiles pointed out, “He won’t understand.”

“I’ll make him,” Derek promised.

XXX

“I don’t understand,” Scott stammered, eyes wide in horror, “How could you do this? How could you _rape_ Stiles? After everything he’s been through?”

Stiles rolled his eyes but stayed behind Derek, still terrified of Scott despite his glimmering of recovery. They had headed downstairs to get some food and Scott had been there, having let himself in to visit his best friend. He’d looked up quite happily to great Stiles, sniffed the air, frozen in horror, and then gone all wide eyed and wobble chinned.

“I didn’t _rape_ him!” Derek replied in shocked disgust, “I _marked_ him! Look, Stiles has been offering himself up for sex to numerous pack members, right? I know about Isaac, but I’m betting there are others.”

Scott made a face but nodded in confirmation. He had been aware, then.

“So, this is that difference between born and made wolves,” Derek insisted, “Stiles may have been bitten rather than born, but they _forced_ him to behave like a born wolf. They taught him to by beating him whenever he failed to meet their standards. He’s now afraid to act any different. In a pack with an omega that is uncertain of their position, he’ll give a beta gifts in order to garner favor with the expectation of protection and the beta getting the alpha to approve of them. In Stiles’ case he’s been cooking and cleaning for us, mostly for his dad, but for the rest of us, too. He’s trying to get one of us to stand up to you.”

“What? Why?” Scott stammered in confusion.

“To avoid being abused again,” Derek replied, “He’s trying to make sure that a decently respected and powerful beta is on his side so he isn’t the punching bag.”

“I’d _never-“_

“I know,” Derek snapped, “And deep down, so does Stiles, but _his wolf doesn’t_. His instincts are screaming at him. He _has_ to do this, and since food and cleaning won’t work for any of the werewolves since we don’t all live together he was only feeling secure with his father and Isaac as the omega. So he offered the only other item he had- his body.”

“Which you took,” Scott scowled, eyes flashing red.

Derek huffed, “I didn’t _take_ anything. He’s _terrified_. You want details? I just rubbed one out on him. That’s it. There was cuddling. It was adorable and I’ll probably get diabetes from it!”

Stiles snorted from the corner and Scott glanced at him, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Stiles replied.

Scott stiffened in shock, “You’re talking.”

“He’s feeling more secure,” Derek replied.

“Because your… stuff… is all over him.”

“My claiming scent, yes. Stating to any wolf around that Stiles can’t be touched by anyone but me, and I _will not_ be taking advantage of him. What this does is assure him that he’s not going to be raped by all and sundry.”

“Then why did he offer himself to _everyone_?” Scott asked.

“He just walked out of a seriously fucked up experience, Scott. He’d literally rather be raped by one than all. He was trying to find the beta in our pack who was willing to take responsibility for him. Frankly I’m furious at myself for not noticing sooner, but he waited to petition me last, probably because I’m your second and the last beta second tried to kill him.”

“Do you realize that you just contradicted yourself?” Scott snarled, eyes flashing red, “He’d rather be raped by one than all? You just admitted to raping him!”

“No,” Derek growled, “I said _what he expected_ to happen. I went _no_ further with him than I had to and I asked for his permission the whole time.”

“He’s not well, Derek. He can’t give you permission.”

“He can and did,” Derek snarled, “He’s feeling better now, Scott! He’s talking!”

“He’s hiding again!”

Derek turned to see that Stiles had gone a step further than ducking behind him and hidden beneath the kitchen table, “You’re scaring him, Scott. You have to calm down.”

“He smells like your come!”

“And it makes him feel safer,” Derek replied with a heavy sigh, turning to face Scott again, “Tone it down. You want him to feel safe, right?”

“Fuck you!” Scott snapped, and Stiles whimpered, tucking himself against the wall beneath the table and beginning to reek of anxiety.

Derek gave up on confronting Scott and crawled beneath the table with Stiles, sliding an arm around his shoulder and tucking him against his side.

“It’s okay. It’s fine. He’s yelling because he’s worried about you. He’s mad at me, not you. We talked about this. Scott would _never_ hurt you.”

“Words, just words,” Stiles muttered, burying his face into Derek’s shoulder, “People _lie_. Werewolves lie. They can lie without you hearing it, too.”

“It sounds like the ‘wolves holding you prisoner were real monsters,” Derek replied softly, “Do you remember your life before?”

“Yeah. It’s just… blurry. Like a dream. Like the real shit happened after and I just fantasized about being happy before that.”

“It’s the other way around,” Derek assured him, “Not that it didn’t happen, but what you went through in that den was the nightmare. What happened before and what’s happening now? This is real. This is your life. That was a temporary situation that you’ve survived, however you had to, and what you did to survive it is fine, Stiles. Nothing wrong with what you did. You were surviving. No one’s going to judge you on that.”

“I killed people, Derek. I was raped. I let myself be raped. I _asked for it_ because it got me food and nice touches for a while.”

“You _survived_ ,” Derek insisted, “And you can have food and nice touches whenever you want here. Just ask. Or find a way to show me like you did today. If Scott’s right and you don’t want me touching you like I did than I’ll find another way to keep my scent on you. I could jerk off in another room and just give you a cup full. Would that be better?”

Stiles was quiet for a while, long enough that Derek was beginning to think Scott was right and start feeling guilty. Then Stiles let out a heavy sigh.

“I trust you. I want to feel safe and… held.”

“You can be held without it being sexual,” Derek replied, rubbing his shoulder.

Stiles was silent for a while and Derek let him think it through while Scott stood leaning against the counter, clearly deep in thought and unwilling to leave them alone.

“You needed that, too,” Stiles said softly after such a long pause that Derek had to remember what they had been talking about prior.

Derek snorted, “I’m not short on partners, Stiles. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m sort of gorgeous.”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, “But this was different. I don’t know how, but it was.”

Derek didn’t have to listen to his own heart to know it stuttered at Stiles’ words. He just turned his head and pressed a kiss against the top of Stiles’ head. Scott sighed and slid down the cabinets to sit on the floor and stare at them from across the room. Stiles stiffened against Derek’s side. He relaxed in increments as time continued to drag on with Derek patiently waiting for Stiles to calm down enough to talk to Scott again. Finally the younger ‘wolf took a deep breath and spoke up.

“Do you still want me?”

“Want you how?” Scott asked, wincing. It occurred to Derek that Stiles might have gone to the source of his anxiety. How horrible had it been for Scott to rebuke a sexual advance from his traumatized best friend?

“Dude, as a friend,” Stiles huffed, “A packmate. A… a brother.”

“Yes,” Scott replied, eyes intense as he lowered his head in an unconsciously predatory fashion.

To Stiles’ instincts it probably made sense, so Derek didn’t try to counter it. Scott’s one word broke the dam and Stiles pulled free from Derek, sped around a chair, and launched himself at Scott. Derek watched from beneath the table as Scott and Stiles greeted each other as packmates for the first time in five years. Stiles rubbed his head against Scott’s chest and Scott wrapped his arms around Stiles and breathed in his scent while rocking him back and forth.

“I’m sorry,” Scott choked out, “I’m sorry I didn’t find you. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you. I’m sorry you need Derek to feel safe around me.”

“S’ my fault,” Stiles sobbed, “Gerard was threatening me. I challenged him. He _sold_ me to them. Sold me. He was supposed to get the bite as payment, but they screwed him over or something because he didn’t join their pack afterwards.”

“We defeated him,” Scott replied, “I drugged him with wolfsbane and had Derek bite him. He’s in a hospital room puking up black blood for the rest of his miserable existence. He can’t hurt you again.”

“Good. The _bastard_. He was so smug. He beat the fuck out of me and then brought me to them and just…” Stiles fell apart, sobbing against Scott’s chest while the alpha held him tightly, “I just wanted to go home. I just wanted to go home. I cried and they mocked me. I fought and they beat me. I talked and they starved me. They stripped me down to raw emotions and broke me, Scott. I _died in there_. I _died_.”

“You didn’t,” Scott wept, “You survived. You made it, Stiles. You’re home now, so enjoy it, okay? We’re here and we love you and you’re _never_ going back.”

“It’s not that easy,” Stiles sniffled, pulling back a bit and giving Scott a devastated look, “I’m still there in my head and I just… I’m _trapped_. I want out so bad, but every time I claw my way out I get dragged back down. My own brain is fighting me!”

“So let me be on your side,” Scott soothed, reaching out to cup his cheek, “I’ll protect you. Even from yourself.”

“You have to let me deal with it in my way, Scott. I know it doesn’t look healthy to you, but it’s the only thing keeping me from hanging myself.”

Terror flashed through Scott’s eyes and he pulled Stiles back in to hold him tightly, “Anything but that.”

Derek crept out slowly, not sure if he was welcome close to his alpha just yet, but when Scott noticed him he held out a hand and Derek scurried forward to press his face against Stiles’ back. His arm wrapped around Scott’s shoulders and they held each other tightly until the Sherriff came home.

 

XXX

ALTERNATE: I had another version of their reunion that just didn’t pan out when written but I really liked it so I’m sharing it here. As you can see when you read it, there wasn’t as much resolution but there was a lot of emotion and snuggles.

Another pack sleepover. Derek was getting sick of them because they inevitably ended in disappointment when Stiles didn’t join them, but this time he thought it would be different. After assuring Stiles of his safety by marking him, the young omega _should_ feel a longing to cuddle up to them and be fully immersed in the pack. Sure enough, as they lay down to rest on the mats on the floor of the living room, Stiles slowly left his father’s bedroom where he’d been seeking out safety from his dad and slunk down the stairs.

Derek shifted to lie down beside Scott, shoving Isaac out of the way. Isaac gave him a disgruntled look, but then caught Stiles’ scent and switched over to hopeful. Scott was the only one Stiles wouldn’t go near, and it was breaking the Alpha’s heart. Isaac hurried to put himself far from them to avoid disrupting the situation. Scott gave Derek a confused look, but accepted the beta’s sudden insistence on being the little spoon. When he caught sight of Stiles approaching them he stiffened in surprise and then began to reek of hope. Derek smiled warmly as Stiles carefully curled against him. There was a moment of hesitation and then Stiles curled one hand around Derek’s ribs and pressed his head against his chest.

Stiles settled slowly, taking in deep breaths of Derek’s scent. When he was so relaxed that his breathing was starting to drift towards the heaviness of sleep, Derek reached behind himself to find Scott’s arm. Scott took Derek’s lead, trusting him to go no further than Stiles was okay with. Scott’s breath was a complete contrast to Stiles’. It was light and anxious, almost panting against the back of Derek’s neck. When Derek placed Scott’s hand on Stiles’ forearm the alpha let out a needy whine and pressed his face harder against the back of Derek’s neck.

Stiles was still calm so Derek slid it up further, guiding Scott’s hand up Stiles’ bicep to his shoulder. Scott gripped it weakly and let out that needy sound again. Stiles responded in his sleep, a soft yip of acknowledgement to his alpha. Scott crooned and rubbed his shoulder, sliding his hand down to Stiles’ ribs and around to his back. Derek was squished between them as Scott tried to get as much of his arm around to Stiles as possible without hurting him. Derek felt his back grow moist as Scott began to sob against him.

“Stiles,” Scott sobbed, voice muffled against Derek.

Stiles made another soft yip of acknowledgement and then sighed in his sleep, “Scott.”

Scott stopped trying to reach for him and just held on, shaking as he cried as silently as he could. Derek rubbed his forearm gently where it lay against Stiles’ torso.

“Is he going to be okay?” Scott whispered.

“Eventually,” Derek replied, “Just don’t expect this to be an overnight fix. He’s still hurting. It’ll take time.”


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles still had nightmares, but now Derek was there to hold him as well. When his father walked in on Derek rocking Stiles through a night terror the first time he froze in shock, but after watching for a moment he just nodded and shut the door. On his way back to his bedroom he heard John mutter about finally being able to get some sleep. After that Derek stayed each night, and occasionally talked about having Stiles stay over his own in order to expand the omegas safe zones. Every few days he would lay across Stiles’ body and bring himself off, hot and excited despite his promise to keep things between them careful. He rubbed his release across Stiles’ body and if the young man wanted it he would stroke him until he came as well. Then he held him and let his heart ache for the pack he’d lost and just how _close_ Stiles was to a born wolf that Derek was starting to feel right again.

Always they were touching, either a soft touch of just their smallest fingers as they stood side by side or wrapped around each other like vines. Even with their sudden closeness it was a shock to Derek when Stiles began to respond in kind. It started when Derek dreamt of the fire one night. He woke up screaming, smoke in his nose and screams in his ears, to find Stiles braving his claws to hold him close. Derek pressed his face against Stiles’ neck to breathed in his scent and listen to his voice until he stopped shaking. He was only vaguely aware of John entering the room to check on them and then leaving when he saw Stiles had it handled.

Stiles was taking slow, deep breaths while holding Derek tightly. His body was healing faster than it used to now that he was healthier. Derek leaned back once he’d gotten control of himself and pressed kisses over the closing injuries.

“I’m sorry,” Derek soothed, “I never meant to hurt you.”

“S’fine,” Stiles replied with a yawn.

They rolled about to get comfortable and Stiles’ morning wood prodded Derek’s hip as the young omega snuggled against his chest. Derek’s hand slid down to Stiles’ hip without thinking and he found himself fondling the young man’s posterior. Stiles gasped and arched against him and Derek felt instantly guilty. Scott’s nasty interpretation of what he was doing to help Stiles cope was getting to him.

“Derek,” Stiles breathed, “S’not time yet.”

“Sorry,” Derek pulled back, but Stiles chased his hand and pressed it against the curve of his ass again.

“I want you,” Stiles moaned, “Derek, please. Stop holding back.”

Derek pressed his face into Stiles neck again, mouthing along that long column as he rolled his hips against Stiles’ burgeoning arousal. The young man arched against him and Derek rolled them so he could press him into the mattress. Stiles tugged at Derek’s shirt, pulling it over his head once the beta allowed it. They caressed each other tenderly, Derek pulling Stiles’ clothes off hungrily. Once he had the slender young man stripped down he spent some time finding each mole and kissing it until Stiles was panting beneath him, his hard cock leaking onto his belly. Derek was drunk on the scent of his arousal and longing for more.

“Please tell me you have lube?”

“Mm?” Stiles shifted a bit, “I dunno? Five year old lube?”

Derek snorted as Stiles reached beneath the bed to find his stash, pulling out magazines, a bottle of lube, and a bottle of olive oil. Derek gave the lube a glance and realized it was a lost cause. It had become plastic ages ago. The oil would have to do.

“You okay with this?” Derek asked.

“What are we doing?” Stiles asked, laying back and staring down his body. He reached out and slid his hand across Derek’s chest to tease one nipple.

“I’d like to finger you,” Derek replied, “I don’t think we can do more with just this, but it will help us rub against each other, too.”

“Mm,” Stiles arched, “Yeah, I’m good with that.”

“Do you want to do it to me, too?”

“Wh-what?” Stiles’ eyes widened, “Betas don’t like that.”

“This beta _loves_ a finger up his ass,” Derek smirked, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the center of Stiles’ chest, “Makes me come _so hard_.”

“Yeah,” Stiles whined, spreading his legs wide, “I came so hard before… but it was wrong and…”

“We don’t have to do this,” Derek reminded him, looking up in concern.

“I want to. Fuck, I want some _good_ memories of sex,” Stiles pleaded weakly, “Just… tell me it’s okay? A lot?”

“It’s okay,” Derek told him, sliding the oil over his own shaft and then reaching for Stiles’, “It’s more than okay.”

Stiles moaned and arched his back. Derek slid his hand down Stiles’ balls and ran a finger around his pucker. Stiles let out a shakey little breath and relaxed himself intentionally. Derek slid an inch in and back out again.

“Good?”

“Mm,” Stiles nodded, biting his lower lip.

Derek pressed in again, sliding easily as Stiles’ body accepted him eagerly. He curled his finger and Stiles’ mouth fell open as he moaned deeply.

“Oh _yes!”_ Stiles gasped, “Fuck, that’s… oh, that’s good.”

“Yeah,” Derek growled, watching his finger disappear behind Stiles’ balls, sinking into him with ease.

Stiles fumbled with the oil saturating his entire hand accidentally, and reached around to grip Derek’s ass wetly. Derek chuckled as Stiles’ hand slid around uselessly. His eyes were fluttering as he became stupid with pleasure. Derek eased off his prostate despite the anxious whine so that Stiles could focus on pushing a finger between his ass cheeks.

“Are you sure?” Stiles asked.

“Fuck yes,” Derek growled, “Finger me, Stiles.”

Stiles pressed into him and Derek breathed through the initial burn before his body remembered how much he loved this. He lined up their cocks, pulling his finger free so he could approach Stiles’ ass from the side instead. He slid his hand under Stiles’ thigh and began to rut against his body while Stiles groped his ass and fingered his hole.

“Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods,” Stiles panted, hips stuttering as he panted and moaned eagerly, “This is way too good.”

“Yeah,” Derek gasped.

Stiles had somehow managed to get a second finger into Derek without him even noticing. He was typing on Derek’s prostate with alternating motions, maintaining a constant stimulation while Derek gasped and groaned against him. Stiles’ slim body was gorgeous as it arched and rubbed against him, his cock hard and hot between them. Derek was fast approaching climax, and he had no longing to hold back whatsoever. Not with Stiles beneath him keening in pleasure.

“Oh fuck, Stiles,” Derek groaned.

Pressure was building at the base of his balls and every press against his sweet spot was driving him insane. He was gasping and grunting wildly when Stiles went still beneath him and clenched around his finger. Derek groaned as Stiles shook through his orgasm, mouth open on a long, low moan. Heat spread between them and Derek came buckets, elation souring as he spread his scent over Stiles’ body again.

Stiles reached between them, scooping up their combined cream, and spread it across Derek’s chest and along his neck. Then he froze in horror.

“Is this… is this okay?”

“Yes,” Derek panted, resting his head against Stiles’ forehead, “This is _more_ than okay.”

Derek caught his swollen lips and kissed him deeply, glorying in the feel of Stiles’ tongue shyly stroking his own. Stiles had marked him as his own and Derek’s wolf was howling with joy.


	6. Chapter 6

Scott was confused up finding Stiles’ scent on Derek. It registered in that twisted up, awkward smell, look he had on his face. Overall, both werewolves found it hilarious and Scott became the butt of their jokes as they made sure to freshen up the scent whenever he was coming over. Once they even did so _while_ he was over, which got a look of absolute horror from him when they stumbled downstairs from a ‘trip to the bathroom’.

Stiles was still keeping his distance from Scott, though he allowed him in on occasion for a rare pat. Any unsolicited and unexpected touching was met with Stiles jumping and backing away. It was breaking Scott’s heart and they all knew it, but there was very little they could do about it. At least he was talking now. He might go days without saying a word, but then they’d mention something he was interested in and it was almost like Stiles was back. He still refused to make a statement to the police and had yet to leave the Stilinski residence despite prodding from Derek and John. No amount of therapy seemed to be helping, but Stiles as usual found a way to help himself.

It was snowing and the entire pack had shown up at the Stilinski residence only to realize that being stuck inside wasn’t possible. At first they left in pairs, but when a snowball fight broke out between Isaac and Scott they couldn’t remain polite to Stiles’ self-incarceration any longer. The pack flew out the doors and into the back yard, laughing and flinging snow. Derek wolfed out and flew around snarling and biting at snowballs that flew into the air.

It was a moment before anyone even noticed that Stiles was at the open back door, peering out at them with longing in his eyes. Derek paused in front of the back door, prancing about and hoping Stiles would come out. He laughed a bit at Derek’s prancing puppy routine and took a step out. The entire backyard took a collective gasp and Stiles paused, staring up at them with wide eyes. Derek threw them all a glare and growled angrily. The group began to pretend to play again and Stiles shook his head at them all in amusement. He took another step out, then reached down and scooped up some snow, forming it into a ball and bringing it to his mouth to smell.

“Oh gods,” Stiles choked, squeezing it until it crumbled down out of his fingers.

Derek transformed and stepped forward, pulling Stiles against him as he began to sob brokenly.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? What happened?” Derek asked, rubbing his back while Stiles pressed against him and sniffled miserably.

“I… I haven’t seen snow…” Stiles wept against his shoulder, “I don’t even know how long it’s been.”

Derek’s eyes widened. Had they never told him? Possibly not since he came out of that heightened feral state.

“Five years,” Derek whispered.

“I’m…?”

“Twenty-one,” Derek told him, rubbing his back through his sweater, “You can drink now… well, legally.”

Stiles let out a choked laugh and leaned back a bit, smiling up at Derek, “This is insane.”

“Well, I am naked in the snow…” Derek pointed out.

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, “Maybe I should join you.”

“Wait, that’s not what I…” Derek’s voice trailed off as Stiles stepped back and stripped off his shirt. He shoved down his bottoms and to Derek’s complete shock transformed fully into a wolf.

Derek stared after Stiles with his jaw hanging open while he took off across the snow. He let out a joyous yip and Derek took off after him on all fours, tongue lolling out and heart pounding in hope. Stiles ran around with them for an hour until they were all exhausted, cold, and worn out. They stumbled inside, stuffed themselves into dry clothes, and curled up on the living room floor to cuddle under blankets. Stiles took the longest to come downstairs, and when he did he was wrapped up in his superman pajamas and giving the group a nervous look.

Derek stood up, moved beside Scott, and made sure to leave a gap for Stiles. He nodded to the space between them and Stiles gave them a shy smile before heading over… without hesitation for the first time in months. Stiles dropped to his hands and knees and then crawled forward, sliding in between Scott and Derek. Scott was holding his breath and waiting for Stiles to relax. Derek expected he’d turn purple before it happened but Stiles slotted himself against Scott’s side and laid his head on his shoulder. Derek scooted over and slid his arm around Stiles’ waist.

“I missed you,” Stiles whispered.

Scott’s lungs emptied and when he breathed in again he let out a broken sound. He turned his head and breathed in Stiles’ scent.

“I missed you.”

“Stay the night?”

“Yeah.”

“No… no sex, though.”

“No,” Scott laughed lightly, “No sex. Not for you and Derek, either.”

Stiles smirked a bit, “Spoiled sport.”

Scott laughed lightly and they all cuddled down into a puppy pile to hold each other close. Derek buried his nose against the back of Stiles’ neck and breathed him in all night, but even that couldn’t stop the sweet smell of their alpha as he pumped out unbridled joy for their reunited pack.


	7. Chapter 7

“You’re sure?” Derek asked.

“Yes,” Stiles laughed, “For the tenth time, I’m _sure.”_

“This is big for me, Stiles,” Derek reminded him, pulling up his hand to kiss it tenderly.

“It’s big for me, too,” Stiles replied softly, and then waggled an eyebrows suggestively, “In more than one way.”

Derek rolled his eyes, “Okay. Just remember I’ll be _feral_ , okay? I won’t be able to recognize if you change your mind.”

“I know,” Stiles replied, leaning forward to rub the side of his nose against Derek’s, “I trust you. I want this. I won’t change my mind.”

“I’ll die if I wake up to find I’ve lost your trust,” Derek whispered, embarrassed to share that much of himself. He had to. Stiles had already shared _everything_ with Derek; every horrible, terrifying, humiliating, vulnerable moment of his five years of enslavement. This would be the first time Stiles was penetrated willingly in his _life._ That was huge, and yet he’d asked to experience it via mating ritual. Mating ritual meant that he’d be mounted with very little preparation, mainly only what Derek’s inner wolf decided to give him, though Stiles had worked a bit of oil into himself his body wouldn’t maintain the stretch for long.

“That won’t happen,” Stiles soothed, stroking his cheek lovingly, “I’m going to be _all_ yours. In every way. I _want_ you to mate with me, Derek.”

Derek rumbled in pleasure at those words, his body thrumming in longing. Stiles. His. Mounted and claimed. The way _born_ wolves mated each other, rather than the tame way humans courted each other. Of course, nowadays even werewolves dated first, but that just made this the werewolf equivalent of marriage.

 _Eternity_.

“Okay,” Derek panted, “I can feel the moon rising. You should go. _Hurry.”_

Stiles nodded, pressed one last firm kiss to Derek’s lips, and strode out into the woods. As Derek watched Stiles picked up speed, stripping off his clothes as he ran barefoot through the woods. There was a flash of porcelain bottom and then Stiles transformed into the blonde wolf with black markings that Derek had fallen madly in love with months ago. Derek gasped, excitement pounding through him. He fought the change. He had to give Stiles a head start, and he _needed_ to wait until the moon rose.

Derek paced on the edge of the woods, glaring into them with glowing blue eyes as he growled under his breath. Soon. Soon.

_Now!_

Derek let out a hunting howl and took off into the woods, tail flashing behind him as he chased after his betrothed. His senses were in overdrive, heated by the moon and the prospect of claiming Stiles. He could practically _taste_ his scent in the air. Excitement pounded through his veins as his feet struck the ground. Derek’s tongue lolled out of his mouth, scenting Stiles and the freeing odor of leaf debris. He was wild for his future mate. He would find him, take him and…

Stiles swerved in front of Derek from the left, but before he could register his lithe young lover’s figure he had darted off to the right. Derek veered right, but Stiles vanished beneath a bush and Derek quickly found that he’d crisscrossed his scent. Derek slowed to a trot, growling in frustration as he put his nose to the ground and began to truly search. He moved quickly from one side to another, bolting into a run only to find another crossed path. Then another. And _another_.

Derek was now deep into his feral state, growling and panting as he worked his way through the forest with his mind on one task: find his mate and claim him. The tip of his pink shaft was peaking from its sheath, longing for the pup that was meant to be his. When he broke into a clearing with a frustrated snarl to find his mate giving him a surprised, ear-raised look, he let out a bay and gave chase once more. Stiles bolted, but he had become tired during his games and Derek had paced himself. He was a powerhouse, less fleet of foot and more endurance. He took Stiles down before he could get his wind up again, tackling the other werewolf to the ground. They snarled at each other, growling and nipping as they mock-fought. Stiles tried to wriggle free, but Derek latched onto his neck and held him in place. Derek growled a warning and Stiles went still beneath him as Derek shifted about so he could mount the pup he held by the scruff of his neck.

Derek gave another warning growl and slowly released Stiles’ neck, licking at the minor wound apologetically. Stiles slowly turned his head to lick at Derek’s chin submissively. Derek huffed his approval and moved down his body, dismounting so he could sniff his mate over. He nosed beneath his tail and licked at his wet pucker, pushing his long tongue at Stiles until he was given access. Stiles whined and Derek pressed into him, wiggling his tongue eagerly as he grumbled enthusiastically against his mate’s entrance while it quivered and the scent of desire washed over him.

This wouldn’t do. Something wasn’t working. Derek felt his body shift once again and now his hands were free to move over the furred body before him. He reached beneath the tail just as it melted into Stiles’ body to form a curved, wet ass. Stiles was ready to receive him. Derek moaned, digging his partially transformed teeth into his lush ass, sucking at the flesh beneath his teeth and worrying a dark mark into his skin. Stiles’ head hung between his shoulders as he panted and moaned softly in longing. Derek’s hands explored his heaving sides, damp with sweat and trembling in longing. As his hand slid down Stiles’ hips _(finally filling out!)_ he scratched lightly until he reached soft bush, then curled his hand greedily around Stiles’ member. Stiles moaned deep and low, pushing his hips back in longing as his prick began to plump up. Derek growled acceptance of his mate and mounted him once more, his needy dick thrusting against air, thigh, and ass before finding Stiles’ gaping hole. He pressed in, drawing a yelp of excitement and pain from his mate. Another thrust brought him home, buried to the hilt as he growled and clutched at Stiles’ body.

Derek leaned forward licking the copper stripes along Stiles’ back from his previous bites, and threw his head back to howl his claim to the world. Beneath him his mate crooned and lowered his shoulders in submission. Derek gripped the soft orbs of his full bottom and began to pound into him as their pack’s howls echoed from Lookout Point, acknowledging his claim and celebrating with him. Derek let his mouth fall open, gulping air as he took Stiles faster and harder, teeth glinting in the light. He was frantic for release and it came to him quickly, his hot seed filling Stiles’ body to complete the claim. Beneath him he could feel his mate shift and a vague part of his mind noted that he was touching his own shaft hurriedly. Derek didn’t care. He was pressing in deep and growling hungrily, waiting out pulse after pulse of his stiff rod as his balls emptied for ages. They weren’t just pushing out semen, they were pushing out his pheromones to linger inside Stiles’ body. It would be a red flag to any creature with a nose worth talking about that Stiles was _his_. Even humans would acknowledge it on a subconscious level.

Finally Derek knelt there, gasping for breath as the chill of the spring night crept over them. Stiles was half asleep, balanced on his arms above a puddle of both of their making as Derek’s come leaked from Stiles’ overfull body. Derek blinked, shook his head, and reached out to stroke along Stiles’ back. Dried blood covered his back, mostly coming from the back of his neck, but Derek could see patterns on his ass as well. Derek had bitten and _clawed_ him in his feral state!

“St-Stiles?” Derek croaked, hesitant to even move. He didn’t want to pull out. What if Stiles pushed him away and…?

“Mm, my mate,” Stiles breathed, pushing his hips back in his sleep.

Derek’s cock began to harden again and he caught his breath, eyes rolling back in his head as his body fought to send blood to his nether regions again.

“Stiles, don’t. I’ll fuck you again.”

“Mmm,” Stiles agreed.

Derek considered his slumbering mate for a moment; decided consent had already been given, and reached down to fondle his own balls until he was fully hard again. If anything came nearly as close to the sexiness that was claiming Stiles, it was fucking him while his fluids dribbled from Stiles’ body. He moaned and groaned, rubbing his hands over Stiles’ healed body. He draped himself over him, lifting up on one knee for leverage, and pressed loving kisses to the places he’d abused earlier. He found a hard nipple and teased it while Stiles whined and panted in his sleep. When he felt Stiles’ body begin to respond on a more conscious level he reached down and palmed his hardening cock.

“Oh gods,” Stiles gasped, “Oh gods, I smell like sex. I smell like you. I smell like _us_.”

“Yes,” Derek growled, “My mate.”

“Derek. Fuck,” Stiles moaned, “I love you so much.”

Derek groaned, hips speeding up and breath hot on Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles was chanting his name like a mantra while the beta worked him hard. When Stiles’ body began to tense around him, Derek let himself go with a triumphant howl but gripped Stiles’ cock to halt his release. Derek grunted and thrust through his orgasm, not wanting to stop. Not _ever_ wanting to stop. It was too good, being with someone like this, knowing that Stiles would be there for the rest of their lives, knowing they belonged to each other.

Well… almost.

“Stiles…” Derek gasped, pulling free, “Don’t come yet.”

“I’m trying, but you were fucking jerking me off like you handle your fucking Camero…” Stiles panted.

Derek scrambled around and shouldered his way beneath Stiles. The young omega whined as he lined himself up, using his own come as lubricant and gripped the base of his cock to keep himself from climaxing too soon. He found Derek’s hole, dry but twitching and greedy for what Stiles had to offer, and pushed in to the hilt in one go.

“Oh my _gods!”_ Stiles screamed, then grasped Derek’s shoulders, threw his head back, and howled his possession of the Beta to the moon above them. The pack answered once again, though Lydia’s banshee cry sounded more than a bit sassy.

“Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods,” Stiles gasped, pumping his hips frantically, “Is this supposed to happen? Oh my gods, I can’t stop coming. Oh fucking _hell!”_

“Yeah,” Derek panted, “Let it happen.”

“I’m dying. I’m dying from pleasure. You’ve killed me,” Stiles gasped, “Oh, fuck, what a way to go!”

Derek snorted and rolled his eyes, “Just fill me up and then get off. This is weird.”

“But I _am_ getting off,” Stiles giggled weakly, “Oh woooooow.”

Stiles’ cock finally gave up, the girth dying down until Stiles’ member slid free. With it came a wash of his seed and hormones, dripping down Derek’s bollocks and thighs before spilling onto the forest floor. Derek twisted around instantly, snarling as he pinned the omega beneath him and mouthed at his neck to remind him who was higher in rank. Stiles crooned happily, letting out a happy sigh and smiling goofily up at the moon. Derek let himself drown in Stiles’ scent for a moment before moving to his other side- away from the mess they’d made- and collapsing beside him.

“I’m leaking,” Stiles giggled.

“Me, too,” Derek smirked.

“It’s _you_.”

“It’s you, too.”

“We’re _married_ ,” Stiles breathed.

“Congratulations, husband,” Derek smiled at him warmly.

Stiles turned his head to meet Derek’s eyes, smiling at him lovingly.

“Congratulations, husband,” Stiles repeated, leaning in to give him a slow, tender kiss, “Now carry me home. I’m _destroyed_.”

Derek snorted, “You think I’m not? We’re spending the night here.”

“But there’s _dripping_ ,” Stiles whined.

“Shhh,” Derek soothed, “If it bothers you that much transform and lick it up.”

“Ew.”

“Yup.”

“Hey Derek?” Stiles snickered.

“What?”

The answer was a hot tongue on Derek’s neck that quickly moved down his body.

“Oh _hell_ no!” Derek laughed, and quickly transformed as well, licking at his mate’s face and yipping at him lovingly. They curled into two sticky balls of fur and snuggled together, noses kept warm under each other’s paws.

_Forever my wolf._


End file.
